


how long can we keep this up

by MoLea90



Category: The Pinkertons (TV)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-11 13:37:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11715477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoLea90/pseuds/MoLea90
Summary: He fires his gun and the next thing he knows, he's on the ground. He can hear Kate screaming his name over the whooshing in his ears and he focuses all his energy on it. If this is how he goes, he wants her voice to be the last thing he hears.





	how long can we keep this up

He fires his gun and the next thing he knows, he's on the ground. He can hear Kate screaming his name over the whooshing in his ears and he focuses all his energy on it. If this is how he goes, he wants her voice to be the last thing he hears, even if it is filled with panic. He doesn't know what happens to Jesse but Kate is kneeling next to him in the snow, her face lined with fear, as she searches for and finds the wound on his side.

 

He hisses when she puts pressure on it and he struggles not to cry out in pain. She's talking to him, reassuring him that he's going to be fine, that she has a plan but he's sure that's more for her comfort then his. She can't lift him onto her horse and there's no one around to send for help. He opens his mouth to tell her it's ok and not to worry but that's not really what he wants to say to her so he closes it. He wants to tell her that he's sorry and that he's pretty sure he's fallen in love with her and that he wishes that they had had more time together. But even now he doesn't know how to say it and he's unsure as to whether she'd even want to hear it. _You coward,_ he thinks.

 

She's keeping up a steady stream of words and even though she's got tears in her eyes that she's desperately trying to hide, she maintains an outward calm that he's come to love her for. He wants to hear everything she says but he can't make himself focus on her words. All he can think of is that at least he gets to look at her while he dies and how stupid he's being for not attempting to say to her the words that have been ringing in his head for the past 4 months. He's dying and he wants nothing more then to kiss her (at least one time in this life he has to kiss her) and tell her he loves her.

 

Facing Jesse James had required less courage then this and even though he knows he won't face the consequences, he still trembles for reasons other than his injury when he licks his lips and opens his mouth. Instead of words though all that comes out is air and seeing this, Kate leans down closer to his face in order to hear him. She's close enough now that he can smell her hair and he feels a tear on his cheek. He doesn't know if it's his or hers (probably his. She's always been better at controlling her emotions) but he knows he's inches away from her lips. He moves his head slightly and lightly brushes his mouth against hers. He wants to kiss her harder, one hand in her hair and another at her waist, hard enough that neither of them can breathe but he knows this is all he's going to get and even though its such a gentle kiss, he can still feel it throughout his whole body.

 

Kate's wide eyed when he opens his eyes to look at her, her mouth open and he can tell she doesn't really know what to do. He takes a breath and opens his mouth and even though his voice is hoarse at least he's speaking,

 

 "You're gonna catch flies with your mouth open like that." 

 

He can’t resist the tease and it slips out of his mouth before he can even think about what to say. She snaps her mouth shut and though she still looks surprised, she gives him enough of a glare to know that she's recovering from her shock. 

 

"You're lying on the ground with bullet wound and your first reaction to possibly dying is to make a move on whatever woman is close at hand?"

 

The words are spoken with indignation and accompanied by an eye roll. He feels the pressure from his wound ease up a little as she moves her hand to the satchel at her side. She digs around for a couple seconds before finding what she was looking for and pulling it out. He can't see what it is but he honestly isn't paying too much attention to her actions. He's far more interested in her words. He doesn't try to think of something clever or distracting to say, instead just opting for the truth.

 

"Of course not," he rasps out, "I've been wanting to do that for months. Well, definitely not just that. I mean, more then _that_ , but not, you know, _all_ of that-" he stutters and cuts himself off. He curses himself for the inability to be smooth but he has been shot so maybe he can give himself a break.

 

Kate is looking at him blankly while she fiddles with something in one hand, the other still maintaining pressure on his wound. Her words are slow and slightly confused when she says,

 

"You've been wanting to kiss me for months?"

 

Instead of replying, he gives her a slight nod and waits for her to say something else. But she continues her fiddling in silence and he's not sure what he was expecting but he can't deny that he was hoping for something more than silence. He had hoped with every fiber of his being that she felt _something_ of what he did. But he at least got to feel her lips on his and he feels like maybe that's more then he should expect. He closes his eyes with a sigh but promptly opens them again when he feels a burning, exploding pain in his side. Her fiddling apparently had been with her lock picking kit, which she had sterilized and then promptly dug into him.

 

"Jesus, Kate! Give a guy a warning before you stick him."

 

He's looking at her in disbelief but she doesn't even glance at him. She's moving the instrument carefully, her hands covered in his blood when she replies, "I didn't want you to tense up and if you knew what I was going to do, you would've. I've got to get the bullet out and clean you up as best I can to prevent infection."

 

He’s gasping through the pain and his vision momentarily goes black. It promises relief f but he’s afraid if he gives into it, he won’t wake back up and he has more to say to her first. He suddenly knows that she’ll blame herself somehow when he dies so once again he takes the cowards’ way out and avoids what he really wants to say. Is it really though? He asks himself. He’s protecting her from herself and that’s not cowardly, right? So instead of saying the words that are on the tip of his tongue; he bypasses them to make sure she knows he chose this.

 

“Kate, you don’t have to do that. I knew what I was walking into. I accept this. You should be getting back to town.”

 

This time she does look at him and she’s furious, “Well I don’t accept this. What did you think I would do when I found you here; actually let you bleed out in the snow? I never thought you were actually that stupid.”

 

She continues her careful extraction while berating him, “And what were you thinking, riding off on your own without telling me? We’re partners; we aren’t supposed to do things like this without consulting one another.”

 

He’s still struggling to stay conscious but he hears most of what she says.

 

“Gee Kate, can’t I even die without your permission?” he manages to faintly say through gritted teeth, “Look I have something to say to you-” but he doesn’t get the chance to continue because she’s pulling out the bullet and cleaning him up and still managing to scold him,

 

“No you can’t die without my permission, Will Pinkerton, and especially not like this. Of all the stupid, foolhardy schemes you’ve ever come up with this is by far the worst.”

 

She’s pulling lengths of bandages from her satchel now and struggling to move him to bind the wound. He would help her if he could but he’s barely conscious now. And anyway, she’s got her tiny capable hands on his body so maybe he wouldn’t help even if he could move.

 

“This will have to do until we can get to the doctor which should be soon.” She raises herself up slightly and looks toward the path she used to find him but clearly doesn’t see whatever she was looking for because she sits back down on her haunches and looks at him.

 

Her eyes meet his and with the little energy he has left, he raises his hand to where hers sit still maintaining pressure on his side and grasps them lightly.

 

“Can I say something now?” his words are slightly slurred and his vision is now black around the edges but he doesn’t wait for her reply, “I’m in love with you. Just so you know. Had to kiss you…” He trails off as he finally passes out so he doesn’t hear or see her response but he’s relieved anyway.

 

He awakes suddenly some time later and it’s dark outside but he’s inside on a bed and inexplicably alive. He’s not sure where he is or how he got there but as he moves his head to the left and comes face-to-face with Kate, it all makes sense. Of course she would manage to save him and somehow get him to her house. She’s lying on the bed next time him, which he realizes with a thrill is her bed, her eyes closed and breathing peacefully.

 

His “deathbed” confession comes back to him and though she’s not even awake, he can feel himself flush. He’s not sure what he’s supposed to do now. He didn’t die and now she knows what he feels for her. How are they ever supposed to work together again? It hits him suddenly that maybe they won’t. Panic grips him when he considers the possibility that she won’t want to be his partner anymore. She may not feel the same way he does but he’s never questioned his desire to have her in his life, in whatever capacity he’s allowed. He rapidly scans her face like there would somehow be a sign of her feelings printed on her skin when he meets her very much awake eyes.

 

He’s pretty sure he’s stopped breathing and she’s just looking at him with those warm brown eyes. Neither one of them has spoken yet which is good because he wants to stave off her negative response to his declaration for as long as possible. She reaches out a hand to gently touch his forehead.

 

“Your fever is gone. How are you feeling?” The words are almost whispered and he leans in slightly to her touch.

 

“M’fine” he matches her volume even though there’s only the two of them here. It feels intimate and a shiver runs through him at the thought. She moves a little closer to him afterwards and he can tell she thinks his movement was because of his injury. If he’d known it would get her close to him, he would shiver all night long.

 

“I’m glad you’re feeling better. That’s a good sign.” She seems hesitant and awkward and he knows she heard what he said. She looks much like she had during their discussion about relationships between Pinkerton partners. He hopes that she felt awkward for the same reason he had, that he was hiding his feelings behind his questions and veiled looks, but he doesn’t know how realistic that is. He can tell that she’s debating on how to bring it up but he’s not going to help her break his heart so he keeps silent.

 

“Will, do you-” she hesitates and licks her lips before continuing, “do you remember what you said to me earlier?”

 

She’s not meeting his eyes now and he doesn’t know if that’s a good sign or not. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest. She doesn’t think he remembers. Cowardly, he wants to take this chance and tell her no, he doesn’t remember, because then he wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout. But he was a coward once already, not telling her how he felt until he thought he was going to die. Even if he did deny it, pretended that it never happened, she would still remember and would believe that he had lied to her as he was dying. He doesn’t think he could take that.

 

“Yes,” he says simply “I do.”

She scoots even closer to him at that and still not meeting his eyes she tentatively asks, “Did you mean it?” She doesn’t let him answer but she starts to ramble, “Only, you thought you were going to die so it’s understandable that you wouldn’t remember or that you wished to say something kind to me before...it’s also possible that in your disorientation you believed I was someone else which is a common occurrence in people with life threatening injuries-”

 

He shakes his head to cut her off and she must notice the movement out of the corner of her eye because she still hasn’t looked at him but her steady stream of chatter stops. She’s approaching this as logically as she can because she’s Kate and she loves logic but he can tell that she’s unsure. He wants to touch her somehow to reassure her but his whole body is sore and despite how much he wants to he can’t seem to make his hand move. He continues to look at her and she finally meets his eyes right before he speaks

 

“Yes, I meant it,” he’s still whispering, “I’m sorry that I said it in such a horrible way. I’m sorry you feel uncomfortable around me now. To be fair, I thought I was going to die” he gives a little humorless chuckle, “so I didn’t think I’d have to deal with losing you as a partner when it came out. I won’t fight you on your transfer and tomorrow morning I’ll head back to my room at the hotel.”

 

He’s still looking directly at her so he notices when mouth deepens into a slight frown. “I don’t want a new partner unless you do,” she says slowly, “and you aren’t leaving here until you’re better.” She pauses and she’s silent for hours (it’s only seconds he knows, but it feels so much longer) before she continues, “I want to be angry with you and I am furious, don’t think that I’m not, but you’re here and…” she looks him squarely in the eye, “I love you too.”

 

His heart is in his throat and he can’t really breath or move but he can feel himself break into beaming, foolish grin. “You’re lucky I’m incapacitated otherwise you’d be compromised so fast your head would spin.”

 

She rolls her eyes but she’s smiling at him, “Is that really all you can think about right now?”

“Darling,” he drawls in his fake southern accent, “I am a man, in love with a beautiful woman, of course it’s what I’m thinking about and don’t pretend you haven’t thought about it too, you sly minx.” He drops the accent and continues before she can give voice to her false denial, “But I would really like to kiss you now that I’m not dying. Wanna help me out with that?”

 

She swallows her scolding response (if he hadn’t been stupid enough to get shot he could kiss her however he wants) slides over enough that their bodies are _finally_ touching and raises her face to his. Their second kiss is much like their first, soft and chaste, but this time she’s touching his cheek. It’s brief but she leans her forehead against his and keeps her hand on his face and it’s enough. He can feel the exhaustion settle over his body like a blanket and murmurs an I love you. Right before he succumbs, he hears her whispered reply, “I love you, too.”

He falls asleep with a smile on his face.


End file.
